For A Moment
by CastielConsultingTimelord
Summary: A human Castiel reunites with Sam and Dean at the Impala as the skies fall around them. Destiel (Dean/Cas). Slash. One-shot. Spoilers for 8x23 'Sacrifice'. Set immediately after the season 8 finale.


_A/N: First time writing Destiel! Super excited! Although the finale gave me many a feel it gave me so many ideas for fics. Special thanks to my bestie Anna Appalachian for pre-reading this for me. Without further adieu, enjoy!_

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**For A Moment**

Castiel stumbled out of the bushes on the edge of the driveway. Gravel crunched beneath his painfully human feet as he hobbled towards the Impala. On the other side he could hear Dean whispering words of encouragement to Sam, who was draped across his lap. The world was spinning around him, his vision unfocussed, all of his senses askew, but he knew he had to get to the Winchester's. If he focused hard enough on making sure the boys were okay, maybe he could drown out the silent cries of his brothers and sisters plummeting towards earth around him. Maybe if he could reach them, help them, then maybe he could pretend, just for a second, that all this wasn't his fault, that he didn't bring upon the fall of every angel from Heaven. Castiel shook his head and nearly collapsed as he turned around the back end of the car, his hands and body crumpling against the smooth metal. He resisted the urge to press his forehead to it in search of salvation from the burning headache pounding in his head. He'd never had a headache before, and now he understood why Dean and Sam were always so cranky whenever they got one. As Dean would say, it 'hurt like a bitch'.

As Castiel's body thumped onto the car, Dean's head shot up: one hand wrapped protectively around a sickly-looking Sam, the other poised on his hip to draw his pistol. Dean's eyes were wide and feral, a warning clear on his face: _you hurt my brother and I won't hesitate to put a bullet through your skull._ Thankfully, Dean recognized him fast enough. On any other day, it wouldn't have mattered if he was shot or not. On any other day, Sam and Dean would be back at the motel, finished their hunt and laughing and eating junk food while Castiel watched invisible from the sidelines. But all of that was about to change. Dean's expression immediately shifted to one of almost happiness as he gazed upon Castiel's face, causing Castiel to nearly smile in return. A sudden desire to cup Dean's face tore through Castiel, tearing his headache to shreds instantly and shocking him to the core of his being. For a moment Castiel stared down at Dean quizzically, his head tilted slightly to the side. The emotion of lust was not new to him—he'd seen it in action many times, both before and after he met Sam and Dean Winchester—but he quickly realized it was quite different when it was happening to oneself. It was taking over everything, making his skin feel prickly and his palms sweaty. He wiped his palms on his trench coat and took another shaky step towards Dean.

"Hello, Dean," he said, crouching down to meet Dean's eyes levelly.

Dean forced out a raspy chuckle. "Hey, Cas." Sam coughed and whimpered, tossing his head. Even from where Castiel crouched he could feel the heat radiating off Sam's body. Dean drew his brother closer to him. He let out another forced laugh, the heavy lines on his face illuminated in the orange-red glow of angels falling behind Castiel. With his free hand Dean reached out and grasped the sleeve of Castiel's coat. "God, it's really you, you stupid son-of-a-bitch." Dean pulled on Castiel's sleeve, and with a lurch Castiel fell into Dean's arms that squeezed tight around Castiel's back. The hug lasted for mere seconds before Dean pulled away. Awkwardly, he patted Castiel on the shoulder. "Well, now that you're here, go ahead." He nudged at Sam, pushing him slightly forward. Castiel stared at the boy blankly. "C'mon, Cas, use some of that angel mojo, fix him up a bit."

Castiel's eyes grew impossibly sad. He looked at Dean with complete seriousness, his expression flipping from pain to sorrow to desperation. Even without his grace, Castiel could still imagine he could see the hope flaring oh-so brightly within Dean. Something pierced straight through Castiel's heart knowing he was the one who was going to have to snuff out that light. "Dean, I—"

Dean's face fell. Castiel hated when Dean looked sad. He looked so much older than he was, the years he spent in Hell bleeding through into this plane of existence. "No," Dean whispered, shifting his gaze to look at Sam, still panting and coated in sweat. "No, no, no this can't be happening!" Dean snapped. He whipped his head back to look at Castiel. Rage burned bright in Dean's eyes, and Castiel took a hesitant step back. "You were supposed to stay angeled-up! You were supposed to gank Naomi or Metatron or whoever, heal Sammy, and stay safe! All I wanted was for you to stay safe!" Seeming to realize what he had just said, Dean looked away, his face slightly pink despite the gravity of the situation. Again, Castiel tilted his head. Was this what was defined as a confession of affection between humans? Didn't one only wish for the safety of those they loved?

"I'm sorry, Dean, but I can do nothing for him now. The best we can do is to take him somewhere safe. There is too much death and destruction here." Castiel swept his eyes across the skies that still burned with a pale golden light. He swallowed.

"But what about Crowley?"

"Forget Crowley," Castiel waved his hand in the general direction of the Church. "He doesn't matter, not anymore. What's important now is that we get you and Sam out of here." With a grunt (he never realized how weak human bodies were), Castiel slipped one of Sam's shaking arms over his shoulder. Sam's head lolled back and he groaned as he and Dean stood up simultaneously. Castiel opened the door and together they maneuvered Sam onto his back in the backseat. As he attempted to understand how seatbelts worked, Castiel could feel Dean staring at him. He stayed leaned over the seat just a little bit longer, feeling oddly prideful that Dean was staying so focused on him. Obviously the strange things Castiel was feeling were not one-sided. When he finally stepped back and closed the door, he did in fact find Dean only a few steps behind. "Are you ready to go, Dean?"

Dean pulled a shaking hand down his face. "Yeah," He took a step forward into what Castiel had come to understand as his 'personal bubble'. He found that he did not mind Dean being in his imaginary bubble. "Yeah, Cas. I just," he sighed. "I just wanted to say that I'm sorry. For everything. It was unfair of me to give you so much hell. I mean, it's not like you're the only one who's made mistakes. Me and Sam, well, we've made enough of 'em to last us several lifetimes. And if there's one mistake that I can fix, right this very second, then I'm as sure as hell gonna."

"I do not understand, Dean, what do you—" And at that moment all of Castiel's thoughts flew out the window, because Dean Winchester's lips were suddenly pressed against his own. For obvious reasons, Castiel had never been kissed before, but he never imagined it'd be like this. From what he'd seen from movies called 'chick-flicks' and 'porn', kisses did not go this way. They were either rough and fast and dirty, or slow and passionate. The movies could not, however, describe the way it felt to actually be kissed. They never described how he could feel Dean's body heat against him, how he could feel the soft breath Dean let out through his nose brushing against his cheek. Nothing ever told him that even though it hurt to have fingers clutched in your hair, it made the kissing seem more desperate, more alive. He also wasn't expecting Dean to be crying against him as Dean's lips moved. Castiel stood stock still, unsure of what to do. Dean was patient, though, and so he pulled Castiel's arms from his sides and placed them on his hips before returning to cupping Castiel's face with his calloused hands. Soon enough, Castiel figured out that he should be moving his lips too. They fell into a steady rhythm, moving their mouths together slowly. Castiel soon realized that they weren't simply sharing a kiss; they were sharing in Dean's emotions. Through this kiss Dean was trying to express his devotion and fears and regrets. He was trying to show Castiel that he forgave him for the things he'd done, and that he desperately hoped Castiel would forgive him too.

It wasn't just a kiss between two men: it was a declaration of love.

All too soon it was over. Dean yanked away so abruptly Castiel almost believed they were still kissing. "Uh," he started awkwardly, looking everywhere but Castiel, carding his hands through his short hair. Castiel frowned and furrowed his eyebrows together. This was not what was supposed to happen after two people kissed. Were they not supposed to be together forever, or at least have sexual relations afterwards? "So, yeah, Sammy. We should go." Castiel missed his cue to nod. Dean crossed over to the driver's side while Castiel slid into the passenger seat beside him. The rev of the Impala's engine brought a faint smile to Dean's lips before a deep cough from Sam sent it skittering away again. They pulled out of the gravel driveway a little faster than Castiel would have liked and were speeding towards the motel in three seconds flat.

Castiel stared out the window, watching as the last of his brethren fell through the veil of clouds. The events that transpired today would make quite a story in the days to come, though no one but a select few would know what really happened across the globe. As they fell Castiel felt that he'd lost a piece of himself with them. Castiel also continued to contemplate Dean's actions. It was so out of his character; had he always harboured secret affections for Castiel? And why did he pull away so quickly? Was he ashamed at what he had done? Castiel prayed that wasn't the case. He wasn't sure if it had started when he fell, or if maybe the attraction was there before that, but Castiel found himself very quickly falling for Dean Winchester. He must've seemed troubled to Dean, because in no time he was saying, "Cas," and forcing the now fallen angel to look at him.

The ghost of a smile returned to Dean's face as he reached out a hand towards him, pointedly staring straight out the front windshield as he did so. Castiel was confused until Dean crooked his fingers in a _come here_ type of motion. Swiftly, Castiel slid his hand into Dean's open palm, intertwining their fingers together, Dean driving one-handed. Although Castiel could still feel the rage and sorrow and instinct to protect rushing through his veins, Castiel knew that Dean was not ashamed. He had done what he had because he had surprised himself.

Ever curious, Castiel asked, "Dean, why did you kiss me?"

Dean's fingers visibly tightened around Castiel's hand. He shrugged. "I dunno. It just felt right. I-I've been wanting to do that for a while, and just with Sammy and you and all the angels falling…" he trailed off, sending Castiel a side-long glance. "I didn't know if I'd ever get the chance to do it again, and I wanted you to know how I felt in case I never did."

Castiel's heart swelled with absolute joy. He hardly registered that he'd leaned across the seat and given Dean a peck on the cheek until he was pulling back and Dean was blushing. For a moment, their lives weren't about angels and demons and trials. In this miniscule space in the Impala, there were no guns, no salt, no devil's traps. For a moment, it was simply about them, two men in love, flying down the highway to who knows where. And Castiel was okay with that. After all, he _had_ known the Winchester's could help him escape from reality.


End file.
